She’d practically had to beg Wyatt to make love to her, he’d been that worried about her mental condition after what she’d been through with Rafe Winslow. But she’d used all her newly acquired womanly wiles on him and gotten him so worked up, he’d sworn he was going to show her every trick in the book. She sat up, sniffing the air. Coffee. And was that bacon? How great was it to have a man who didn’t think it was beneath him to cook his woman breakfast? She stretched again and pulled on Wyatt’s shirt before padding to the bathroom. She was just washing her hands when the pounding on the front door started and she heard the panicked voice of her brother. She scurried back to her room and dressed quickly. “Conner? What’s going on? Oh my god, your poor face.” Her brother’s frame practically sagged with relief. “Thank god you’re okay. I was afraid he might’ve got to you.” “Winslow?” She rushed to him. His face was white as a sheet, one eye was almost swollen closed and there was a cut on one of his protruding cheekbones.
